


One Busy Spider

by prettycheese21



Series: Infinitely Busy [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: But not of the love variety, Confessions, F/M, Friendship, Gen, It could be gen or pre-pairing depending on how you look at it, Late Night Conversations, Male-Female Friendship, Mild ones though, Peter is a Little Shit, Reader is done with Peter's crap, Reader-Insert, Secrets Revealed, Some Humor, Sorry Not Sorry, but when isn't he?, injuries, request, well secret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 07:41:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7352080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettycheese21/pseuds/prettycheese21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An injured Peter knocks on her window at the ungodliest of hours. A much needed talk is had between the two of them as (Name) tends to his wounds.<br/>Or the one where Peter spills the big secret because his best friend is too nosy for her own good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Busy Spider

**Author's Note:**

> I got a request for a sort of sequel to One Busy Bee I don't even remember how long ago. I started it, got almost done with it, but then got distracted by school and other things and completely forgot about this until I was cleaning out the notes app on my school iPad and saw this was still in progress. But it's done now!  
> Enjoy!

   It was around one a.m. when (Name) first heard the tapping at her window.

   Initially she had brushed it off, thinking it was one of the street cats coming to her window to get food. She fed _one_ cat _one_ time and suddenly all of the homeless cats in the area think she’s giving out free food every night. So, she’d turned away from the window and tried to go back to sleep. Just as she was about to be welcomed into the sweet embrace of sleep, the tapping turned into full force knocking. Sighing, she pushed the covers away and walked to the other end of the room, grumbling some rather strong language as she turned on the light to investigate the noise.

   What she didn’t expect to see was an injured Peter knocking against the glass, his cut up and bleeding face leaning against the glass. “Peter?” she questioned, confused and concerned. (Name) was quick to go to the window, pushing aside the curtains to open it. “Peter, what the hell are you doing here?”

   “Hey, (Name),” he gave her a pained smile. “You weren’t sleeping, were you?”

   A sigh escaped her. “No, because I always stay up until one on a school night. What kind of question is that?”

   He shrugged, hissing in pain. “Can I come in to talk about my asking of stupid questions?”

   “Right, sorry,” she apologized as she carefully helped him in through her tiny window that wouldn’t open all the way. The landlord always said he was going to fix it, but he didn’t. And that was almost a year ago. Leading him to the desk chair, she carefully sat him down, “Okay, you mind telling me what happened to you? And why are you dressed in that ridiculous costume?”

   “Oh… this old thing?” Peter awkwardly laughed as he looked down to his tattered Spider-Man costume. “It’s nothing.” He hadn’t exactly gotten around to telling his friend of the fact that he was vigilante by night. But, then again, how was he supposed to tell her? It wasn’t something that generally came up in everyday conversation.

   (Name) stood up, scrutinizing the outfit a few moments longer as she dug in her desk drawer for her first aid kit, which was really a bunch of band-aids, a roll of wrap, and some alcohol wipes she swiped from the bathroom every so often. “You know, with those colors, you could be mistaken for that guy- oh what’s his face- Spider-Man.”

   “Yeah, mistaken,” he mumbled as she kneeled in front of him and began to clean the cuts on his face.

   “Though, I have to say I’m not surprised you’re dressed up like him. You talk about him all the time, gush about him even. And let’s not forget your whole escapade of trying to get a picture of him.” Pulling a large bandage from the kit, she peeled it open and stuck it on the long gash on his forehead. Another sigh escaped her as she sat back and grabbed another wipe, “Jesus, Pete. This is the third time in a span of two months that I’ve seen you covered in cuts and bruises like this. What the hell happened? Did you fall off of a building?”

   “More or less,” Peter muttered, which turned into a hiss as the alcohol stung when it hit a particularly deep cut.

   “More or less? How do you more or less fall off of a building?”

   “It’s a long story that I’d rather not get into right now.”

   “Okay, that’s it.” She sat back, going from kneeling to sitting with her legs crossed underneath her. “What’s going on with you? You’ve been so spacey ever since your uncle died. Is it… Are you okay?” (Name) hated this. Peter used to tell her everything without even having to ask, because that was just what they did. Now? Not so much. She hated to think her friend, her best friend, was suffering alone and in silence.

   The look on her face made Peter feel ten times worse than the bruised (possibly cracked) ribs and his probable concussion ever could. He hadn’t tried to make her worry. In fact, the damage control he was implementing by telling her as little as possible was actually trying to prevent that. Maybe he’d been damage controlling for too long. It was time he came clean to his best friend about everything and told her his biggest secret. After all, she’s patched up enough of his wounds to know something was up, if the determined arm crossing and raised eyebrow weren’t enough of a clue for him.

   “Okay, so I’m going to tell you something and you have to promise not to freak out,” he stated.

   “Alright,” (Name) responded hesitantly. She mentally prepared herself for what Peter might say, everything from ‘I dabble in parkour and I’m not very good at it’ to ‘I’m secretly a serial killer’. Okay maybe not so much the latter, but her point still stood.

   “I more or less fell off a building because I was more or less swinging between buildings.”

   She was even more confused than she was before. “What? Who are you? Tarzan?”

   He chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. This was going to be harder than he thought. “Um, not exactly, no,” he responded.

   “Then how were you swinging from buildings?” It was as soon as she asked the question, she started to put the pieces together. The late nights, the unread texts, the injuries, the excuses all finally made sense. It wasn’t because he was ignoring her or falling into the wrong crowd. Peter wasn’t ditching her. He was doing something even more stupid. “Oh my god. You’re him, aren’t you?”

   “I’m assuming by 'him’ you mean Spider-Man,” Peter said.

   Crossing her arms, she asked, “Would I be correct in this assumption?”

   “Maybe?” The look that crossed (Name)’s face was somewhere between shocked and absolutely murderous. “Look, I wanted to tell you. I swear, I did. But I just-” His rambling was cut off when (Name) punched him in the arm. Hard. “Ow!”

   “You’ve been Spider-Man this whole time and didn’t think to tell me?” her voice was getting louder with each word. Remembering it was one in the morning and that her parents were sleeping just a couple rooms down, she lowered her voice to an angry whisper. “What were thinking?!”

   “I-”

   “Oh, that’s right. You weren’t!”

   “(Name)-”

   “No, Peter, this is serious! You could have _died_! You could have died and all because you’re flying around in some stupid suit, trying to stop bad guys by throwing yourself at them?”

   “(Name), it’s not that simple,” he told her.

   She stopped talking for a moment, before saying, “Then it explain it to me.”

   So he did. He explained to her all he’s felt since his uncle’s passing and about he’d come across these extraordinary abilities. He told her how he felt that he should do something with the newly acquired abilities to help make the world a safer place for good people like his uncle, about how he felt an _obligation_ to help. And (Name) listened. She took it all in with a (mostly) good attitude.

   When he was done, all she said was “I still think you’re an idiot putting yourself in danger like that. But, I will admit what you’re doing, helping all those people… it’s pretty great.”

   “So you’re not mad anymore?” Peter asked with a hopeful smile on his face.

   “Oh, I’m still pissed, but it’s also damn near two a.m. and I would like to go back to sleep. Or did you forget we have school tomorrow?” she said, a small smirk making it’s way onto her face. “Are you going to be okay to get home or do you need to crash here?”

   He shook his head. “Nah, I have to go home. If I’m not there in the morning, my aunt would freak out.” He stood and made his way over to the open window and slipped out onto the fire escape. Peter turned back to face his friend one last time, saying, “I’ll see you at school.” With that, he disappeared with the soft clanging of metal.

   (Name) sighed as she turned back to her room, which was littered with band-aid wrappers and used alcohol swabs. _That’s a problem for morning (Name)_ , she thought. She went back to her bed, plopping tiredly onto her sheets. She might as well try to enjoy the four hours of peace she had left before she had to get ready for school.

**Author's Note:**

> Like it? Want more?  
> Let me know by leaving me a kudos or a comment telling me so!
> 
> Want to request something of your own?  
> You can do that here in the comments or on my Tumblr page (@notsoobviousfangirl).
> 
> Thanks for reading :)


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